The Heart of the Lion
by Amber Blade
Summary: In a dark pub in Hogsmeade, Regulus Black overhears something that will change the course of his life forever. Written preHBP.


**Disclaimer: **Characters and situations belong to J. K. Rowling. I'm just playing in her world.

**The Heart of the Lion**

As a cold, rainy spring night settled over the village of Hogsmeade, a dark-haired young man sat alone in a dingy pub. He spent most of his nights like this, sometimes with friends, usually alone, always lonely. He had friends, but couldn't seem to relate to them. What they did out of enjoyment, he did out of duty. He remembered that letter from his mother, when she learned he'd been sorted into Slytherin. She'd been so proud. And now that she was gone, he still felt an obligation to carry on the Black family traditions. The traditions that his brother had left behind.

He took another sip of his firewhiskey. Sirius, he thought. They'd been brothers once. Now they were enemies. Maybe he couldn't have helped being sorted into Gryffindor, but he didn't have to take up with the muggle-lovingest boy in the house. Of course Regulus had only been nine years old when his mother had ranted about half-blooded Gryffindors and muggle-loving Potters, but he knew he didn't want to be treated the way she had treated Sirius that summer after Sirius's first year.

So he'd followed a path his mother approved of, and he liked it less with each passing day. He'd thought about leaving the Death Eaters after she died, last fall, but his fear of the Dark Lord kept him quiet. His brother had taken a path on which Regulus wished he'd had the courage to follow. _Probably why he was in Gryffindor. He wanted to be different. And I just wanted to please Mother._

A flash of silver at the bar caught his eye. It was Albus Dumbledore, headmaster of Hogwarts, having a word with the barman. A small, nervous woman stood beside him. He remembered Dumbledore well, his speeches encouraging respect and acceptance toward all as the best way to oppose the Dark Lord. _Would he accept me? Would he protect me?_ Maybe if he went to Dumbledore, he could be forgiven. _But would he trust me?_ He had to try.

Regulus watched the barman lead Dumbledore and the woman to a room upstairs. He'd wait by the door and then talk to Dumbledore when he came out. Pulling up the hood of his cloak, he crept up the stairs. He paused at each door until he heard Dumbledore's voice.

"I'm sorry, Ms. Trelawney, but I just don't think you have the gift. Good luck and goodbye." He heard Dumbledore moving toward the door.

"Hey, you up there," the barman shouted. "Get away from there." Regulus ignored him. Dumbledore would be coming out any minute. As the barman walked toward the stairs, Regulus heard a woman's voice, deep and throaty, come from the room.

_"THE ONE WITH THE POWER TO VANQUISH THE DARK LORD APPROACHES . . . BORN TO THOSE WHO HAVE THRICE DEFIED HIM, BORN AS THE SEVENTH MONTH DIES . . . "_

A rough hand tore him away from the door. "I told you to get away from there. People come up here expectin' privacy, and I don't need Death Eater runts like you snoopin' around here." Regulus looked at him. "Yeah I know what you are. And I don't want to see you in my pub again."

Regulus shuffled down the street, thinking about what he'd heard. _A child. A child who could grow up to defeat the Dark Lord. If he hears about the prophecy, he'll kill it. Or send me to do it. _He wouldn't be able to. He knew that. His only choice was to keep his secret as long as possible. Protect whomever the prophecy might refer to. _And then I'll be free._

_Oct. 17, 1981_

_Sirius,_

_There's something I need to tell you, and I'll understand if you don't believe me, but I want out. If you can help me, meet me this Friday at midnight at our old Quidditch field. I'll understand if you don't come, but I hope you will._

_Regulus_

It wasn't really a Quidditch field, just a small patch of land where Father had brought them to practice flying when they were small. Sirius would know what he meant though. It was the one place Regulus had seen his brother happy, outside of school. He looked at his watch. Midnight had come and gone, and the minutes were ticking by. Regulus was preparing to leave when he saw something shimmer, and Sirius appeared

"Invisibility cloak," Regulus observed.

"What, you didn't think I'd come prepared for an ambush?"

"I'm surprised you came at all. Where'd you get it?"

"Enough small talk," Sirius grunted. "What sparked your sudden change of heart?"

"Not so sudden," Regulus countered. "I've been considering it since Mother died."

"Oh, so you joined the Death Eaters just for her. Aren't you a good little boy?"

"Damnit, Sirius, I came here for help, not a scolding. Now listen to me, please. About a year and a half ago, I . . . overheard something, something I wish I hadn't. Something the Dark Lord would have very much liked to know. I . . . I thought it might have involved some . . . friends of yours."

Sirius frowned. "You didn't happen to get tossed out of the Hog's Head while you were hearing it, did you?" Regulus nodded. "And you've kept it secret all this time."

"But I don't know for how much longer. I've seen how they look at me. They're suspicious. If he finds out I've been hiding this . . ."

"I'll talk to Dumbledore, see what we can do. If you haven't heard from me by Halloween, I want you to meet me here at midnight again."

"But that's a week away!"

"That's just a limit. I'll try to contact you sooner. If you've lasted this long, you can last another week." Sirius threw the invisibility cloak over his shoulders and walked across the field as Regulus disapperated. Neither of them noticed the rat hiding among the fallen leaves.

He was awakened the next morning by an intense pain in his left arm. Lord Voldemort was summoning his followers through the Dark Mark. Forgetting the previous night's meeting in his sleepiness, he slipped on his shoes, pulled on a set of robes and his mask, grabbed his wand and apparated. Expecting to be surrounded by a group of Death Eaters, he found himself back in the Quidditch field, face to face with the Dark Lord. Alone.

Regulus genuflected, trembling. "My Lord. What is it you desire of me?"

"Get up." Regulus stood quickly. "Tell me what you know."

"My Lord?"

"Tell me." Voldemort held out a cup of clear liquid. "You know what this is. If I don't have to make you drink it, you may live. Remember, I know when you are lying. Tell me what you heard."

With a start, Regulus remembered the meeting with his brother the night before. In this very spot. How had the Dark Lord found out? He looked at the cup of Veritaserum. He knew it would do know good to resist, but if he told willingly, he could escape and warn Sirius.

He took a deep breath. "It sounded like a prophecy of some sort. Albus Dumbledore was talking to a woman, and she said the one who would defeat, well, you, would be born at the end of July."

"I am losing patience. You have told me nothing. Tell me where you were, when you heard this, and _exactly _what was said."

"It was spring of last year. I was at the Hog's Head Inn in Hogsmeade. She said," he paused to remember the wording, "she said, _'the one with the power to vanquish the dark lord approaches. Born to parents who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.' _There may have been more after that, but that's all I heard. I was caught and thrown out of the inn.

"Forgive me my lord, the whole thing seemed so absurd, I didn't ..."

"Be quiet. I know you have told me the truth so far. Do not give me further reason to doubt you. _Crucio._" Regulus managed to remain standing for the duration of the curse, which felt like an eternity but was really closer to a minute or so. "Leave me. And remember that next time you decide to hide something from me."

Regulus apparated back to his small flat. This was it. He was done. He would write Sirius, warn him of what the Dark Lord knew, and then he would run. He would never be controlled like that again. When he burst into his bedroom, he found an owl waiting on the windowsill. He brought her in and shut the window, hoping she held a reply from Sirius. "Wait here," he told her, as he grabbed parchment and a quill from his desk, "I'm going to need you in a minute."

"For what?" said a voice from behind him.

Regulus's heart sank. _Severus. _"I knew he let me go too easily. He's sent you here to kill me hasn't he?"

"Yes, Black, he has. Fortunately for you, I'm not much in that business anymore."

"What do you mean? Why not?"

"Perhaps you should read the letter that Dumbledore was kind enough to send so promptly."

Regulus had forgotten all about the owl still perched on his desk. He took the parchment from her beak. It contained neither greeting nor closure, only a single line of writing.

_Find Severus Snape. Tell him you saw a Phoenix cry._

"This is from Dumbledore, isn't it? You're spying for him, not on him."

"Very good. Maybe you are a bit more perceptive than your brother. Since we seem to be on the same side, I'm not going to kill you. I'll just convince him I have. Leave this flat as if you never came back here, and make sure he never sees your face again. I suggest you leave the country. I'll tell Dumbledore what you told the Dark Lord, you needn't worry about that."

"Wait..." _How do you know what I told him? _Regulus had wanted to ask, but Severus had already disapperated, taking the owl with him.

Regulus collected his thoughts. _Can't pack anything, they'll know I was here. _He slowly put away his quill and ink bottle and tossed the unfinished letter into the fire. He reached under the mattress and grabbed the bag of emergency money he kept in the flat. It was a fraction of what was sitting in his Gringott's vault, never to be seen again, but it was enough to start over with. A minute later, he had dropped a handful of Floo Powder in the fireplace, and he was gone. He was as good as dead.

_June 30, 1996_

_Professor Dumbledore,_

_I can't tell you who I am; it's too dangerous. But I want to help you in the fight against the Dark Lord Voldemort. I ran away once. I don't want to do it again. Talk to Snape. Tell him I've been 'dead' for fifteen years. He'll know who I am. I hope._

_I saw a phoenix cry._

_R. B._


End file.
